


Even in Heaven

by Findmehere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Fix-It, Hurt Dean Winchester, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, M/M, Mary Winchester is just kind of there, Panic Attacks, Parental Bobby Singer, Post-Canon, Romance, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findmehere/pseuds/Findmehere
Summary: I am a fairly new Supernatural fan- I know, I know, the show is over and I am very late to the party- my husband starting watching it and I found myself unable to look away.This is a continuation of canon, but there are a few things of my own thrown in there, so please pardon any changes that may annoy you!Alright, the actual summary:Dean is in heaven, he has been for a while, but he isn't done fighting the things from his past, he's tried to move on but there is one thing left to do before he can experience paradise.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 39





	1. Tears in Heaven

Dean was in literal heaven. He felt so much joy seeing Bobby, and his parents, but even in paradise he felt haunted. Not really haunted, he could deal with that, he understood that, but there was an ulcerative sort of aching, a wound that would not heal within him. In the beginning, they all assured him that was part of the process and that if he wanted he could look in on the ones he left behind. 

His mother clapped him on the shoulder, "It will help you to see how good Jack is to Sam. He has a very good life."

Dean took her advice and looked in on Sam, he and Eileen were getting married and it made Dean smile despite himself to see his brothers face, full of nervous anticipation. He watched it all, Sam's eyes glistened when he saw her walking towards him and Dean felt a little lighter knowing that his brother was so happy. Maybe this was it then, they all told him that Heaven was an adjustment but it would pass, and then there would never be a day without joy again. It was strange seeing the wide, unrestrained smiles on the faces of gruff men like Bobby and his father, who barely smiled at all on earth, but they were so happy when they saw him. Dean could literally feel their happiness, but it could not penetrate his pain. 

"Jack," he said one day, driving down an empty road in his own paradise, which he thought looked a lot like Colorado. 

"Yes, Dean," suddenly Jack was there in the passenger seat of baby. 

Dean was startled by the fact that this didn't startle him. 

"Hiya, Jack," he smiled, "How are you kid?" It was strange, calling God kid, but that is what Jack was to Dean. 

"Very good, Dean," he frowned, eyeing Dean keenly from the passenger seat, "but you are not well."

"I'm in heaven Jack," he laughed, "I'm pretty freakin great."

"Hmm...but I wish you were happy here. In your human life this would have been nearly two years, and that is typically a sufficient amount of time for people to let go of what ties them to earth, and feel much more joy in this plane of existence."

He said it matter of factly, and Dean knew he should be feeling something different. He did not miss earth, not exactly, but he felt like a puzzle with a piece missing, he just could not seem to put himself back together. 

"Do you often think about living Dean?" Jack asked, "Being on earth?"

"Uh, not really kid, I mean I miss Sammy, but he's doing everything he always wanted, and so I guess I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be."

"Hmm," was Jack's only reply. 

"What," Dean said, smirking. 

"You are still wounded, your soul is...well it's almost as if it's been torn right down the middle."

"I had a pretty crazy life down there, kid. I'm sure all my stuff got damaged," he grimaced. 

"t's not that kind of damage," Jack smiled, "I healed you from all mortal wounds, when I brought you here. This is...," He pressed his finger to his forehead, thinking, 

"Oh, I see," he said finally. 

Dean frowned, "What do you see?" 

"Dean, what still hurts you from your mortal life?" Jack asked, placing his hands in his lap. 

Dean felt like this was some sort of God therapy and he squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. 

"There was a lot of pain in my life, Jack," Dean said, "You know that."

"But there is pain you still hold onto," Jack explained, "Pain that will never heal if you don't let it go."

Dean pulled baby over and cut the engine, he turned in his seat and looked at Jack. He knew there was nothing that Jack did not already know without asking, he could parse out anything he wanted, look into peoples' minds, he could feel their emotions, so he could not help but feel slightly annoyed that he was being asked this question. 

"Dean?" was all Jack said, brow furrowed. 

"You know everything I went through, you know what I saw, how I lived, what I lived with. How can I let all that go?"

Jack smiled, "But Dean, you already have. When you entered heaven, my heaven, I showed you what we created, and I showed you how you helped build it. I felt your pain, I knew you needed time, so I kept you with me, close to me until you were well enough to meet Bobby. Do you remember?"

Dean tried to remember first entering heaven, the burning almost painful light that filled him and then the relief as he realized that all his physical pain was gone. All the scars from years of being a warrior on earth, a prisoner of hell, and fighting - monsters, angles, and demons - were gone. He was free, Sammy was free, there was something inside him he had never felt before, peace. That peace washed over him as he remembered, he savored it. 

Jack closed his eyes, "Yes, just like that Dean. You did let it go, you remember it, but you are not burdened by it anymore." 

Dean thought about this for a while, he could not deny that unlike on earth, he could think about the past, the pain, all the pain, without that knot forming in his chest. He could think about it and know that it all led to this place, paradise. 

"I guess not," he finally answered, looking at his hands, clean and soft as they were now.

"But there is something there," Jack said exhaling, "I did not see because I did not really look. Ithought I knew, I thought that your soul was fragmented because you were separated from Sam, but it's not Sam, is it?"

Dean did not look up, he knew that his emotions in heaven were freer, that pain and joy were woven together in a way that he would have never understood on earth. His eyes stung with very human tears because he had not let this part of his humanity leave him yet, this was the thing he never thought about, yet that consumed him, he was not fully in heaven because he had not submitted to heaven. He thought it, the cursed word, the name he used all his holy energy not to think, not to say: Cas. 

It started to rain, pouring down on the impala, pooling on the roadside, raining the way only heaven could rain, cloudless and furious. 

"Castiel helped me rebuild heaven, Dean. He has watched over earth, and helped guide the angels in my care, he is here, you can pray to him."

Dean felt the rain outside as if it was coming from inside of him, and maybe it was. His eyes closed and he tried to quell the fear that was burning through him. 

"I don't think I can," Dean said finally. 

"You can," Jack replied smiling, "You should. Angels cannot interfere with your paradise unless you invite them, unless you ask for them. Ask for him Dean, and he will come."

Dean's soul was burning and the rain poured down more violently, sounding like gunshots on the windshield. 

"How..." he started, hesitating, "How will I know it's him?"

Jack looked at Dean quizzically, "What do you mean?"

"His meat suit is up here in heaven isn't it? I mean, that was Jimmy Novack, I'm sure he wanted it back," Dean said sarcastically, pressing his hands against the steering wheel. 

Jack smiled, "Castiel was given a heavenly vessel by me at his request, but I think you'll find you will recognize him quite easily."

Dean shook his head, "I don't know." 

"I do," Jack said with another smile and then he was gone. 

Dean sat in Baby for a long time thinking about what Jack had said before heading back to Bobby's. He spent most days with Bobby now, they were currently building Dean his own cabin and Dean found that building things with his own hands was cathartic. Words he could never have said about hunting, not really. The woods were dense and secluded, but there were no monsters, nothing lurking just the sound of birds and the river. Bobby was sitting on the porch reading his Tori Spelling biography. He was not embarrassed about that in heaven, she was hot after all. He gave Dean a scowl as he walked up the stairs to join him. 

"Only you could make it rain like that in Heaven," Bobby glared at him from under his worn out baseball cap. 

"What can I say Bobby," he grabbed a beer from the cooler, "I'm a hell of a guy."

Bobby only grunted disapprovingly under his breath. Dean sat with him for a while, watching the sunset over the ridge. It was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen on earth, and although Dean knew it was just a projection of light based on his own emotions and memories of a sunset, it felt so real, watching the darkness fall. When the last bit of light left the sky, that was not really a sky.

Dean polished off his beer, grabbed the lantern that had just appeared next to him, and started walking toward the back of the house. Bobby had dozed off, and it was quiet, too quiet. Dean thought about the song Going to California by Led Zepplin and there it was, playing as if it were all around him the greatest surround sound in the universe. That, he thought, might be heaven's best perk. 

"It seems that the wrath of the gods got a punch on the nose   
And it's startin' to flow, I think I might be sinkin'   
Throw me a line, if I reach it in time   
Meet you up there where the path runs straight and high" 

He heard the line, and laughed to himself, thinking of the times he had faced the wrath of God, of Chuck. 

"Standin' on a hill in the mountain of dreams   
Tellin' myself it's not as hard, hard, hard as it seems" 

He reached the place that he had been walking towards, the river. It glowed in the perfect moonlight. He sat the lantern down and cleared the music from his mind, listening only to the water as he removed his shoes and rolled up the hem of his pants before stepping into the water. He waited for something to occur to him, some words that would make this, any of this, make sense. Jack had said that he would only have to pray to invite him, and he would come. While it did help him to understand why he had not come before now, Dean did not know what would happen if he did call him. There was something in his throat, something he had not felt for a long time, fear. He looked up at the night sky, but closed his eyes against it, trying to will the words into existence, but his mind was blank. Finally, he opened his eyes and said the only thing he could think to say. He said it out loud, he said it to the air, and the rocks. He said it to the trees and the river. He said it with every ounce of holiness he could muster, because it was sacred.

"Cas."


	2. Hello Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a fluffy, very slightly smutty chapter with one very adorable angel.
> 
> Dean finally gets to say what he couldn't on earth.

“Hello, Dean,” he said floating in a pool of light, hovering just above the water, his beautiful black, white and gold wings outstretched.

It was him, the blue eyed angel, Castiel, Cas.

Dean gulped and felt himself begin to tilt, like a globe falling off its axis. He took a few steps back, steadying himself. 

“Cas,” he finally said, “Nice wings.”

The light behind Cas was beginning to fade and he shifted slightly to one side, his wing moving through the air and landed on the bank of the river. 

“Why are you standing in the water,” he asked Dean, tilting his head. 

Dean suddenly felt very human, and… embarrassed. He had stood in the water, because it felt good, because it was always warm and because he wanted the sound to surround him. He wanted to hear the rushing sound so it would drown out the thudding beat of his own heart, but he could not say that, it sounded ridiculous, and he could barely speak. 

“I...uh…,” he stumbled back again, his feet splashing in the water, “just taking a little dip.”

“You called me,” Cas said, the look of concern still in his eyes.

Dean smirked, “I did, but I wasn’t sure you’d come. I didn’t know if you’d hear me.”

“Of course I did, I’ve been listening,” he dropped his head then, his wings bent inward, “When I found out you had died, that you were here, in heaven. I…” Cas looked back at Dean and his expression brought him back to that night, when he was standing in that room listening to Cas. He said everything that Dean had always wanted and needed to hear. He said the antithesis of the things Dean usually said to him self. He said I love you. Then, he said goodbye.

“Cas,” Dean pressed his hands against his stomach and tried to think of what to say, “I thought I had lost you forever. You just said all those things to me, and then, and then… you were just gone.”

“Dean,” Castiel’s eyes were heavy-lidded and brimming with tears, “I did what I had to do, I made a sacrifice, but I do not regret it. I did it for you, which made me very willing.” 

“I never asked you to Cas,” Dean said, his voice raising a bit.

“I know that, but you would have done the same thing, even without my motivations, my reasons. Even without…” he trailed of shaking his head.

Of course Dean knew what he meant, he had thought about it everyday he was on earth, and every moment he was in heaven. Dean never thought of himself as a man who loved anything but family, and that is what Cas was to him. It had utterly broken him to realize that Cas had wanted more from him, something he felt he could never have. The pain, the grief that followed that day was worse than anything he had felt before, it weakened him because it consumed him.

“You were wrong Cas,” Dean said, looking down, suddenly embarrassed again that the was standing in the river, he must look idiotic. 

Castiel’s brow knitted together in confusion, “I was not wrong to save you. This heaven is partially here because of that sacrifice.”

"No that's not what I mean," Dean said eyes still fixed on the water. He watched it run in smooth, languid motion over the surface of the moss-covered rocks. He wished he could have ever been as free as this river water. He knew now that the constraints that earth had put on him were manufactured and unimportant. What it meant to be a man and what it meant to be a hunter, they were things that were true to Dean in the sense that it was all he had ever known, but he never knew how to just be. He never knew how to exist without fighting, and the thing he fought the most was himself. 

Castiel looked at Dean, and it was like being on earth again. He felt the sadness, the bitter anger, and the shame that had been planted in him and that Jack had tried to root out. He knew that this is what Jack had meant when he said that his soul was fragmented. Looking at Cas's eyes - pure and angelic - was painful now. How could he have let him down?

“I felt… things for you. Dammit, so many things. You were my savior, my comrade in arms, my family, but there were times when that didn’t feel like enough. You pulled me from hell, I had the mark of your hand and so I assumed I would always have this bond with you, this connection. I don’t know if you know this about me Cas but I was pretty good at burying things with a drink, or a fight, or a quickie in a bar bathroom; things that relieved some of the fear I felt every god-damned day on earth after watching everything I love die over, and over,” Dean’s eyes were rimmed with tears and he knew he could not let go of his humanity his earthly pain, because he could not let go of his own guilt.

“Dean,” Castiel started to speak, but was cut off.

“I didn’t know… until it was too late,” Dean remembered the feeling after Cas was taken, the emptiness that filled him as he sunk to the floor, the way his heart thundered with fear, with fury, with anger, with the most consuming grief. 

Castiel was very still, his eyes wide with what Dean thought looked like hope, but then something changed in his expression. Dean watched as Cas’s eyes turned downward, and his shoulders sunk, defeated.

“Dean,” Cass took a step back, looking uncomfortable, “When Jack gave me this vessel, he modeled it for me, I asked for it, but I know that my vessel was a barrier... I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I.. know you would have been more comfortable if I had appeared in female form.” 

Dean laughed in spite of himself. He did like that, a lot, and it had been a barrier… at first, but there were times when he looked at Castiel and something foreign rose in his chest, something new and yet totally familiar. I scared him, more than monsters or demons, it scared him even now, in heaven.

“Cas,” Dean looked at him, and remembered that there was nothing that could hurt him here. He remembered that it was sacred, their bond, their friendship, and he said the words that he never managed on earth, “I am so glad you look like you, like I remember, because I don’t want to remember you different. I don’t want to change anything about you. You are an angel, you are filled with grace, you helped rebuild heaven, and you changed me on earth. Your vessel is just that, its not what I care about. I care about you, but I meant it when I told you never to change.”

Dean stepped from the water, the hem of his jeans had dropped into the water and little rivulets of water were running over his feet, he was trembling even though he was not cold. He stood so close that he could see every line on the angel’s perfect face, the curve of his mouth, the line of his jaw, but none of it mattered. Cas could have been in any vessel on earth and it would not have mattered, but he was in this one, and it was beautiful and it meant something when Dean looked into his blue eyes. 

Cas did not move, but he was looking back into Dean’s eyes as he had so many times before: intently, longingly. There was a gentle heavenly breeze and it tousled his dark hair, but he did not move. He never looked into anyones eyes the way he had Dean Winchester, because there was no recognition with anyone else. With anyone else there were only eyes, but with Dean he could see his goodness, his pain, his diluted self-hatred. Now, all he could see was that same recognition, and his wings began to flutter behind him. 

“Cas,” Dean said, his face so close now that Cas could feel his breath, smell his skin, “I think I might kiss you.”

Cas eye’s moved to Dean’s lips when he said this, and without thinking tilted his head infinitesimally toward him. It was the last straw and Dean closed the space between them. It was a clumsy, violent kiss and neither of them moved their bodies but just pressed their lips together like magnets with opposite poles, but inside Dean felt alight with heavenly fire. He pulled away, panting and Castiel stood there eyes still closed, head tilted toward him, as if he were frozen. Dean reached his hand and pressed his palm against the angel’s cheek. Cas exhaled at the touch, like he had been holding his breath not for a moment, but for centuries. 

Finally Cas opened his eyes and smirked, “Dean, I liked that very much.”

Deans felt his non-existent heart flutter, and he leaned in again. This time he kissed Cas not like a thing he had to do, but like a thing he needed. He kissed him gently, his fingers running through his soft brown hair. Cas lifted his hands to Dean’s chest and then ran them across his hard stomach, finally settling on his waist, knotting the soft t-shirt in his fists. Reflexively, Dean pressed in closer, and the kiss deepened into something hungrier. 

Before either of them could stop it, they were falling. Cas landed on his back with Dean on top of him. Neither of them seemed to care or notice they were on the ground, all that mattered was the feeling of their lips moving together. Dean, the whole length of him, was pressed against Cas’s body he could feel the ridges of his hips, the planes of his stomach, and the fact that he was hard against him. Dean had never felt less in control of his body or more willing to submit, but Instinct led him and without thinking he rolled his hips against Cas. The angel made such a beautiful noise then like a choked gasp, and it broke Dean apart. He began kissing him everywhere there was exposed flesh: his neck, his cheeks, his eyelids and then finally when he felt Cas begin to move against him in a steady rolling way, he moved back to his lips, mouth open, breathing hard into Cas’s also open mouth. Cas moved his hands to Dean’s hips, pressing him harder into his movement. Dean would have liked to have taken his clothes off, he would have liked to have been inside in his bed not rolling in the mud by the river, but he could do nothing except gasp and move himself against Cas’s steady rhythm. He licked the angels lips, and it completely undid him. He felt Cas’s body convulse and shake beneath him as he reached the peak of his pleasure. He arched his back and his head rolled from side to side as he cried out. Dean kissed both lips of Cas’s open mouth and smiled. 

“Dean,” Cas said, his breath catching, “I am sorry, I couldn’t stop it.” 

“I didn’t want you to stop it,” Dean kissed Cas’s cheek, “I have never seen anything more awesome than my angel like that.”

“Your angel?” Cass asked, his voice quivering.

“Yes, you have been my angel ever since you dragged me from hell,” Dean’s eyes brimmed with tears and he did not hold them back. On earth, this sort of exchange, this sort of intimacy, would have been very uncomfortable for him, but here in heaven with Castiel, there was nothing more to be afraid of anymore.

Castiel kissed him then and pressed his hands on either side of the hunter’s face, “I am yours.”

“By the way,” Dean said, smiling, “I love you, too."

Finally, the last piece of the puzzle moved into place inside of him.


	3. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean says what he needs to say to Cas about their time on earth, and recognizes that his feelings have been brewing for Cas for much longer than he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this chapter would be smutty, but that just didn’t feel authentic. I think Dean knows how to do physical but he needs to learn to let someone in first. This chapter is a bit angst with some internalized homophobia so be warned... lots of smut to come in the future

When they reached the cabin, the lights were still on inside. Dean was not embarrassed to be seen with Cas, not exactly, but Bobby was around he just was not ready to face him. Even if he were he would rather not be half soaked, dirt on his arms and knees, and his face cemented in some dumb smirk. He stopped short of the cabin entrance and turned to face Cas.

“Dammit, Cas,” he said when he saw the look in the angel's eyes, realizing all at once that love could be spoken in many languages. 

Cas’s expression shifted, “What’s wrong, Dean?”

Realizing he probably sounded annoyed, he placed his hand on Cas’s arm, “Nothing is wrong, I just no one ever looks at me like that… no one but you.” 

Cas smiled, and his eyes practically melted into an ocean of blue light, “I love to look at you.”

Dean smirked and then kissed Cas very, very slowly. The angel let out a little moan and pressed himself into Dean, already flushed and ready with desire.

Dean pulled away laughing, “You ready again?” He asked detecting a note of annoyance in Cas’s expression.

“I…” Cas hesitated, “I don’t sleep but I still dreamed of this for many years. I am always ready.”

In his whole life, Dean did not remember being more desired or desiring the way he did in this moment, his whole body thrummed with it. He pulled Cas back to him by the collar of his trench coat and kissed him wildly. He knew this kind of kissing, the desperate kind, the kind that you did when there was not much time, or much privacy and you had to get what you wanted quickly. Castiel was just as eager and his arms wrapped all the way around Dean, pressing against his back with heavenly strength.

Then Bobby turned on the damned TV. They could hear the theme of Beverly Hills 90210 echo through the quiet woods and it broke them apart like a gunshot. 

They both laughed and Cas, eager and unabashed, stepped forward again in anticipation. 

“Wait a minute Cas,” Dean whispered, “let’s actually make it inside.”

“Okay, Dean,” Cas said, taking his hand and turning toward the cabin.

Dean tugged him gently back toward him, “Cas, could you… just meet me in my room?”

Cas tilted his head, a familiar look of confusion knitting his brow together. 

Dean sighed, “Can we just keep this to ourselves, just for tonight. I don’t want to explain to Bobby just now.”

“Oh,” Cas looked a little taken aback, “yes, that is possible, I’ll be in your room.”

There was a familiar sound of wings and suddenly Dean was alone outside the cabin. He looked up at the clear night sky and shook his head. What was he afraid of? Was he even afraid? He was not sure, but he knew that he needed time to think about it. It was odd enough to be in heaven, but how did you go about being in heaven and dating an angel. Just hearing the word dating echoing in his mind set his teeth on edge, because it was woefully inadequate to describe his relationship with Cas. It was literally minutes old, but it already felt like the most precious and important thing to him. Cas had always been important if Dean was honest with himself, but he never thought of his sexuality as something that was changeable or flexible. He had felt something different than pure attraction to Cas. It was as if his vessel was just a decoration, and what was within was what he had always seen. It was not as if Dean had never been attracted to other men, but he justified that attraction to himself as an extension of admiration; wishing to be them rather than to be with them. 

However, when he and Benny had found Cas in purgatory he could not deny the pull to him, the nearly desperate desire that he felt everytime they looked at one another. It had only grown since then until eventually it smoldered under the surface of every touch, and every look. He had a lot of time to think about it after Cas was taken by the empty, and he knew that so much of the anger he had directed toward the angel was to supplement the fear and longing he felt in his presence. Anger he understood, and it was a tonic against the hard questions, the tough questions that he was so afraid to ask. 

After several minutes Dean realized he was still standing outside, and that Cas would be waiting. He went into the cabin, straight past Bobby who was glued to his television and into his bedroom. He shouted a quick, “Goodnight,” to Bobby before shutting the door.

Cas was sitting on the chair by his desk, looking up at Dean with those same fathomless eyes, “Dean, you were gone a while, are you alright?”

Dean stood there, paralyzed by what his feelings towards Cas meant about the kind of man he was, and the kind of man he could have been on earth without his father’s voice and Chuck’s pen in his mind. 

Cas stood up and crossed to him, “Dean, if you would like me to go…”

“NO!,” Dean cut him off, grasping Cas’s hand, “stay.”

“Okay, Dean,” Cas said, still looking uneasy.

Dean had always kept Cas at arms length despite his loyalty, despite his willingness to give up everything for the Winchesters, to give up everything for him. He had pushed him away over and over again with arrogance and bravado. In this moment, Dean felt more vulnerable than he had by the river, and he knew it was not that this moment was not physical, it was that it was more intimate. He could be physical, but letting his guard down, that was very different. 

He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, “Cas, do you remember when I prayed to you in purgatory?” 

“Of course I do, you forgave me,” Cas replied trying to catch Dean’s eyes.

Dean pulled them both over to the edge of the bed and sat down, he put his hands on his knees and continued, “There was more that I wanted to say when I saw you, but the clock was ticking and you cut me off.” 

Cas’s brow knitted together once again, “What did you want to say?”

Dean took a deep breath, “I wanted to to tell you that I loved you, that I was so angry because after I lost you to Lucifer I had been carrying you around inside of me every day, and it hurt and I was fucking pissed that I let myself love you, because everything I love dies. Then when you were taken by the empty, I didn’t say anything I just stood there. I should have stopped you, I... I just let you sacrifice yourself for me...again. I didn't even tell you that I loved you, I just stood there Cas...”

Dean pressed his palms into his eyes, and willed the tears not to come, he felt such an overwhelming sense of regret. It pressed against his insides making him feel as though he would burst. 

“Dean,” Cas said, lowering Dean’s hands and forcing him to look at him, “I was taken by the empty because I was truly happy to have had that moment of honesty with you, that moment of love. You forget that those you have lost have died loving you, just like I was willing to do. My life had been long and storied certainly but you, Dean, are the only happiness that could have ever been that pure to me, that could have called out to the darkness.”

Dean felt his breath hitch and he remembered the feeling of loss that overtook him when Cas was suddenly gone, knowing that he had not stopped it. Knowing that he could not have stopped it if he had tried. 

“Castiel,” Dean said and the weight of the angel’s full name hung between them like lead. 

Leaning forward Cas pressed his lips to Dean so tenderly that Dean knew he had never been kissed this way: reverent and holy. Dean could not move but closed his eyes and it felt so pure that he imagined this was the true heaven he had been promised. Finally, Cas pulled away slightly and placed his forehead against Dean’s. They stayed this way for a long time, until finally Dean wrapped his arms around the angel and pulled him down onto the bed. He wanted Cas, as difficult as it was for him to understand, he wanted him badly. More than just physically though, he wanted to be close. So, he held the angel to him tenderly, as if he were a piece of glass and not a warrior of heaven. Dean held him as if nothing in the world had ever been so precious to him, and the fear of losing him again began to course through him.

“Dean,” Cas said trying to look him in the eye but failing, “I can not stay here with you, not always, and even if I do, there will be consequences.”

“What do you mean, consequences,” Dean asked, his heart beginning to race.

“Right now,” Cas began,”I can feel the fear within you. That shouldn’t be possible here, you should be able to live without those sorts of emotions. Only the whisper, the memory of them, but if I keep coming to you, You will be unable to bury those memories completely you will retain that part of your humanity.” 

“Do I get you?” Dean asked, cringing a little at how needy it sounded. 

“I would have to leave from time to time, there is still so much to be done, and Jack has much for me to do, but I will always come back to you, Dean.” 

Dean leaned back placing his lips very close to the angel’s, “Cas, if I get you, then I’ll take the rest.”


	4. My Stupid Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is able to remember emotions that have no place in heaven, but it is worth it to have Cas there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: internalized homophobia and panic attack depicted. 
> 
> I suffer from anxiety and OCD and have only recently come out as queer to the people in my life. This chapter depicts what it can feel like to panic, to feel an emotion so raw that it feels like it will destroy you, but also what it’s like to have someone see you, and be there for you. 
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER HAS SMUT! So either skip ahead or hang in there!

Dean woke up in a cold sweat, it was still dark and his eyes took a moment to adjust. He groaned in pain as he felt something sharp behind him pressing against his body, threatening.

“Dean!” Cas was by his side, anxious.

The pain was gone.

Dean grabbed Cas’s hands from the side of his face, and pressed them together between his own, “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“You were in pain, I could see it.”

“Yeah,” Dean huffed out, his dream slowly coming back to him, “but it was a dream, I’m fine.”

Cas stood up, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be experiencing pain. It’s me…”

“No!” Dean yelled a little too loudly, pressing himself against Cas and holding him as tight as he could, “no, Cas.” 

Dean was shocked by the violence in his voice, the fear that trembled through him, and the… this new feeling. Something that had been so buried that it felt like a brand new emotion. He tried to name it as his stomach twisted and he felt nauseated. He slid back, nearly jumping from the bed, realizing what it was: shame.

Cas grabbed him by the elbow and before he could think, Dean pulled away scoldingly. He registered the hurt in Castiel’s eyes and felt another lightning bolt of shame. Without knowing why he stabbed at his chest hard with his fists a few times before doubling in pain. He wrapped his arms around his torso trying to keep himself together. His breaths were coming in quick spasms as he laid himself sideways on the bed. Cas reached out again, but Dean recoiled. He did not want to hurt Cas but the idea of his touch, of any touch, was painful. Instead he lay very still and just listened to the sound of his own stuttering breath, until his soul-pulse slowed and limbs began to tingle. He pressed his eyes shut and a few silent tears slid down his nose and across his cheek. He held himself together like that for a while, until he felt that he could loosen his arms gradually. Finally, he looked at Cas who was standing at his bedside, silently, his eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

Dean slowly pulled himself up and pressed his back against the headboard.

“I’m sorry Cas,” he said, his voice hoarse and cracked.

“Dean,” Cas closed his eyes, a tear landing on his white shirt, “don’t be sorry for feeling... It’s my fault. I warned you.”

“You mean,” Dean cleared his throat, “I felt that because you are here.” 

“Yes, Dean”

Dean let that marinate for a moment, he felt more together and in control than he had, but it was still there, the underlying sense of shame and regret. 

“I don’t understand, Cas,” he said finally.

Cas sat on the edge of the bed, clearly being careful not to touch Dean, “I don’t know how to explain it very well, but… I am alive, I have angel grace, but I also have blood in my vessel. I am living and you are not.”

“Not exactly a newsflash here, Cas,” Dean said, scoffing.

Cas rolled his eyes, “I am trying to explain.”

Dean made a gesture which meant continue.

“Because I am here with you, some of my life is bleeding into you, your soul. It wants to live, that’s what souls do, so they cling to whatever they can. It’s why ghosts sometimes stay with objects on earth, they want to be near the living.”

“So I’m gonna go all ghost-y on you, lose my mind?” Dean asked, bewildered.

“NO!,” Cas said quickly, “you’re in heaven that won’t happen, but you will… feel things. Anger, frustration, and… shame.”

Dean caught his breath, Cas knew. Of course he knew. Dean looked up at the wooden slats on the ceiling of his little room in Bobby’s cabin, trying to think of what to say, of how to explain something so utterly human to a celestial being. 

Before he could say anything, however, Cas continued, “Dean, I wish you had not died. You shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here with you.”

It hurt more than the shame, hearing these words, and Dean felt choked. There was something in his throat and he could not speak freely as he had before, he could not seem to reach that part of himself that found the courage to be that open, that “chick-flicky”, like he had the night before. 

Cas stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat off the back of the chair, and a panic flew through Dean, overriding any other emotion. 

“Don’t go man,” Dean swallowed hard, “I’ll try, I’ll try to explain. You just gotta listen. Don’t interrupt and don’t try and save me or anything, just let me try.”

Cas stood for a moment, considering, and then he pulled out the chair and sat down, waiting for Dean. Dean’s soul softened a little at that, Cas was a warrior of the lord, but there he sat, patiently waiting for one little dead human to get his shit together. 

Dean stood up, suddenly needing the feeling of the floor under his feet, he pulled on a sweatshirt and pressed his fists into his pockets, pacing. Cas barely moved, only watched Dean with concern in his eyes. 

Finally, Dean knew where to start, “Cas, did you know I’ve been to see my parents nearly everyday I’ve been here?” 

He did not wait for Cas to answer, but Cas gave a knowing look, “Well, I don’t want to see my father today. I don’t want to be near him today, and it occurred to me the second I woke up. I had this pain in my back where the rebar pierced me, and I remembered my death so clearly.”

Cas visibly winced at the memory, but Dean kept going, “I… fuck… I should have seen that shit. I fought Lucifer, Michael, and God himself and I didn’t see that fucking rebar. I don’t think I wanted to see it… I was being reckless. I was so lost. I was trying to keep going for Sammy, for Eileen, and for Jack… but I couldn’t…. I couldn’t.”

Dean sat on the edge of the green lounge chair in his room, placing his elbows on his knees avoiding Cas’s eyes, “Cas when you told me you loved me, I lost it. I mean, I lost it, man. Of course, I knew, I think everyone knew, but I had locked that shit down so tight that it was buried deeper than when Michael was in my fucking head. John Winchester raised a man, not some fucking… well I didn’t want to hear it.”

He did not have to look up to know that his words hurt, but he did and he watched the pain register in Cas’s eyes, “Then you were gone Cas. You were gone. Do you think I cared about what anyone thought at that moment? I would have given my soul to have you back. I meant what I said last night, I knew it then, I knew that… that I loved you, too. I knew, Cas, but I was ashamed of it, too. I didn’t remember before, because I couldn’t feel that anymore, that human shame. I feel it now, I remember. It kept me from telling Sam what happened, it kept me from wanting to really live. I cried for you all night Cas, but in the morning I stopped, and I didn’t feel anything, just numb. I didn’t care if Chuck killed me. I was disgusted with myself for loving you, and wanting you and I was disgusted with myself for feeling that way, too. Cas, could you understand that, at all?”

Cas closed his eyes and sighed, “Yes, Dean, I do not pretend to understand the reason why humans feel shame about loving what it is right to love, but I can feel your shame enough to understand how it paralyzed you. It is a very unpleasant feeling.”

“Yes,” Dean smirked despite himself, “I am so sorry Cas.”  
“Dean,” Cas sighed again, his heart heavy, “I understand so much about humanity that I did not before I met you. I love humanity because of you, but I am not sure what this means.”

Dean stood and walked to where Cas was sitting, and pressed his hands on his arms pulling him up. He wrapped his arms all the way around Cas, letting his mouth press against his neck.

He spoke the words against Cas’s skin, “It means that you may have to give me a little time.”

“Dean,” Cas said, leaning himself more tightly into the embrace, “Dean, we have eternity.”

Dean pulled back a little and pressed his forehead into Cas’s, “It won’t take that long.”


	5. I can be Needy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is figuring this whole thing out and Cas is patient. Dean finds a way to say what he needs and Cas is happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of internalized homophobia, but smut as promised.

It was warm outside like a perfect spring day, And Dean could feel the sweat beading across his back and dripping from his forehead as he worked. He had driven Baby to the site of his cabin this morning, knowing that the materials he needed for the day would be there, waiting for him. He felt lighter after Cas had left, but not better, just emptier. He could picture kissing him without that full slick, sickly feeling bubbling up within him, there was only a shadow of it now. The trees swayed gently around him where he stood cutting pieces of lumber for the deck railing. He imagined that he would be able to move in soon, but there was a lot of work to be done to the interior. Dean knew he could have made it all just appear but it felt so good to use his hands for building sanctuary rather than utter destruction. Sometimes Chuck’s words pounded in his head, “Dean Winchester, the ultimate Killer”, but Chuck had been wrong. Dean had done it for love, just like Cas told him, he wasn’t what Chuck made him to be, he rebelled. 

He began marking the railing where the boards would go, making sure they were equal distance, making sure that he was being precise and careful. There was no need to barrel through, no need to smack the hammer until the wood splintered. He could use his strength to make something without breaking anything along the way. An eerie calm set over Dean as he continued to work, he played his “mind radio” all day, singing along. He loved to sing, loved to play guitar, but it had not been an option for him on earth. On earth had been Michael’s sword, Chuck’s metaphorical hammer. Now, he was just a man’s soul, working with his hands and making something beautiful.

After the railing was completed he hung the porch swing he had made and grabbed a beer. He closed his eyes and made the call, “Cas, can we talk?”

A few minutes later there was a flutter of wings, and Castiel was there, standing a few feet away, smiling. 

“Hello, Dean,” he said, once again, utterly predictable.

“Hello, Cas,” he smiled, squinting at the sun setting behind Cas’s shoulder, “Come sit with me.”

Cas went to join him on the swing, and they sat there watching the colors change. It did not take Dean long to start feeling the humanity prick at him - more nerves than anything - once Cas was by his side, the contentment he felt earlier beginning to melt. Cas must have sensed it, because his hands were clasped tightly in his lap, knuckles white with anxiety. 

Dean sighed, half annoyed, “Cas, just hold my hand.”

“What?”

Dean reached down and took his hand squeezing it firmly as their fingers intertwined.

“How?” Cas looked at him, “How did you know?”

“Well, negative feelings aren’t the only part of my humanity that I can feel now, and you forget I was pretty good with… well not romantic shit… but I could definitely pick up on what women wanted… not calling you a woman… shit.”

Cas laughed a little, “I’m not a woman, but I’m also not a man, not really. I am an angel, but yes Dean, you were very good at reading human desire.”

Dean gulped a little, his chest tightening at that word. He hated that he loved how it sounded out of Cas’s mouth. Cas ran his thumb gently across Dean’s hand, and he let his eyes close. It felt brand new, to be comforted like this.

“But you are not good at accepting affection, Dean,” Cas said, matter of factly looking back toward the Sunset.

“Huh, “ Dean Scoffed, “No shit. I guess I never had much practice.”

“You were affectionate with Lisa and with Ben, more than with anyone else, you were happy for a time,” Cas smiled, his eyes shining at the memory.

Dean looked at Cas incredulously, “Yeah… I guess I was. Why would that make you smile.”

Cas looked confused again, “I was always glad when you were happy, Dean. My love for you is not possessive, if you could have found peace with Lisa, I would have kept watching over you, regardless of my own feelings, but I think we both know Chuck had other plans.” 

Dean felt breathless, confused, almost hurt by Cas’s words. He did not want Lisa, not now, not after everything that had changed, but he knew that he could have loved her, could have made something out of that life. He felt Cas increase the pressure with his thumb, caressing circles into his hand. 

“Cas,” Dean knew he had to say something, his emotions were so overwhelming, but he wanted to say the right thing, “Cas, I want that with you.” 

The smile that spread over Cas’s face was blindingly beautiful, he did not try to hide it, only kept his eyes on the sunset which was swiftly fading into darkness.

“I would like that as well, but I want you to understand. I don’t need more than just this,” Cas squeezed Dean’s hand again, “I know I was very quick to find pleasure with you before, but I can control that, I don’t need anything but to be near you. If that is what you wish.”

Sadness that wafted over Dean like a crisp linen sheet, covering every inch of him. It outweighed the anxiety, the guilt, the shame, and he was forced to turn his body toward Cas, pressing his lips to the angel’s. This kiss was not fire, but something tender and totally forgein.   
Cas placed his hand on Dean’s cheek and when they came apart he pressed their foreheads together. 

“Cas,” Dean said, barely audibly, “I know I said over and over we were brothers, but that is not what I want. I need you, Cas.”

He felt Cas tremble beneath him, and knew his angel was holding back, Dean felt powerful suddenly knowing the hunger, the desperation that Cas was feeling, and he was beginning to feel it, too. 

“Dean, I won’t rush you,” Cas said tilting his head forward, needily.

“I know, but I’ve done so much more than this before, and I’m feeling very human right now. Kiss me, angel.”

The words were barely out of Dean’s mouth before Cas nearly lifted him off the ground, pulling him up and pressing his back against the cabin. His lips found all of Dean’s favorite spots, his neck, his jaw, his ear, before finally landing hard on his mouth. He had Dean’s arms pinned against the wall with an almost painful strength, but even in his frenzy Dean knew he was holding back. His head was swimming, totally blissful with lust, and he pressed again Cas deepening the kiss, flicking his tongue across his mouth playfully as he pulled away. He laughed a little at the way Cas’s pupil’s looked completely shot, and Cas backed away slightly releasing his arms. 

Dean, grabbed him by the waist and pulled him so that the angel was now pressing him harder against the wall, he kissed him with a feral sort of abandon until Cas was bucking against him again, unable to resist the friction. Dean could not help the little bit of panic that rose at the feeling. Could he really love feeling this hardness against him? He felt nearly sick with wanting for Cas. He loved it when women were this way for him, hungry and ready, but he knew there were also times when he had wished to switch places with them, to be the needy one. 

Cas was breathing hard, his eyes almost angry when Dean pulled away, “Cas, I need you to…” he struggled to say it, but he knew if he did not Cas would never do it on his own, “Touch me, Cas.”

Cas shivered again, and suddenly they were in Bobby’s cabin in Deans bedroom. Dean let out a little gasp as the angel pressed him gently against the bed, his face against the sheets.

“Cas,” Dean protested, “I didn’t mean.”

“I won’t do that Dean,” Cas said, kissing his ear as he straddled his hips, “trust me.”

Dean swallowed hard but closed his eyes as cas graced away his shirt and pressed his hands into the muscles at Dean’s back. He pressed his fingers and palms against the knots in Dean’s shoulders, releasing the tension he now felt in Cas’s presence. As he did this he peppered the soft freckled skin with kisses and Dean could feel himself melting into the sheets. 

Cas placed his lips against Dean’s ear, “You are made perfectly, Dean Winchester.”

Dean could not help the little cry that left his lips at the feeling of Cas’s breath against his ear. 

“How do you know how to do this, Cas?” He asked, breathlessly.

“I have watched many acts of intimacy while on earth, and I have imagined which ones I would like to try with you many times.”

Every time Cas confessed something like this to Dean, it sent him over the edge. He loved imagining the Angel pining for him, and felt a sick sort of satisfaction that he was getting what he wanted. After all, Cas deserved. They both did.

“Cas, please kiss me.”

Cas turned him over grabbing Dean’s hands and lacing his fingers through his own, before pinning his hands over his head. He kissed his eyelids, his cheeks, his neck, but avoided Dean’s mouth until he was practically whining with impatience. Finally, he released Dean’s arms and lifted on his knees to pull his shirt off. He pressed his bare chest to Dean’s and it sent a fire through them both so that their lips were pulled together with nearly too much force. They kissed and kissed until their lips were swollen and their bodies were moving against each other in that natural rhythmic way. 

Finally Dean pulled away, gasping, “Please Cas,” he said, hating the desperation he heard in his own voice. 

Cas did not say anything just stared at Dean with those penetrating blue eyes as he leaned back and began to unbutton and unzip Dean’s jeans. He gripped at the waist band but hesitated waiting for Dean’s consent. Dean nodded his head and Cas pulled them free, pausing to adire the man he loved, the man who taught him what love meant. Then he was pressing his lips to Dean’s again as he grasped him, letting instinct guide him. He loved the way Dean felt beneath him, helpless and beautiful. Dean could not control the gruff sounds of pleasure that escaped him over and over and Cas carried him to the edge. Dean had more experiences than he could count, but he had always thought about his partner, as if there was something he wanted to prove to them, prove to himself by making sure they were satisfied. Now, he was completely helpless, closing his eyes against the onslaught of feeling that was rushing through him. 

Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s ear again, “Dean, look at me.”

When Dean opened his eyes the look on the angel’s face broke him apart, and he was gone. His back arched, but his eyes never left the angel’s. Cas pressed kisses to his forehead, and ran his fingers through his hair over and over. Dean’s ears were ringing, but finally he heard that Cas was whispering gently to him, “You are perfect, Dean. You are perfect.” Over and over again. 

Even though Cas stayed with him all night, Dean did not feel shame or panic, he held onto his angel and drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	6. Father of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has a chance to reflect of Dean’s death after an encounter with Bobby, causing him to have some separation anxiety. Then he is reintroduced to John Winchester... which goes about as well as can be expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not smutty, it’s really just Cas meeting both of Dean’s dads. The difference is startling.
> 
> **My job is seasonal and weather based, which means I have been busy as hell! But I’ll be posting several ch.s this week. The next one is so sweet It’ll rot your teeth!”

There was a bright beam of sunlight streaming through the window, and Cas watched as it chased its way up the wall. Time was passing slowly, but being an angel meant enduring the passage of time. He could remember very few instances when he wished it would slow further, especially in the presence of humans who seemed to move at a glacial pace, but this was the first night he had ever watched Dean sleep while wrapped in his arms. He had watched over him from a distance, sure, but never felt the warmth of him and felt his breath against his skin. It was the purest sort of happiness he could imagine. Dean began to shift slightly, and Cas watched as he woke slowly. He knew better than to say anything as Dean was a rather angry sleeper and assumed that even death could not break that habit. To his surprise there was a small smile on Dean’s lips as he opened his eyes lazily. 

“Morning Cas,” he said pressing a small kiss against Cas’s chest.

Cas flushed immediately and leaned his head back smiling, “Good morning, Dean.”

The sun was beating down so mercilessly that the room was becoming almost too warm, and Dean leaned away from Cas slightly yawning into his shoulder.

“Need a shower,” he said, “and coffee.”

“I will wait for you,” Cas replied, unwrapping his arms from Dean’s shoulders.

Dean chuckled a little at the idea. Cas had waited for him. He was a seraphim, and angel of the lord and he had waited years for Dean only to have his last action be to sacrifice himself in the name of love. Dean was overwhelmed suddenly, he ached in a totally new way. He realized looking into Cas’s stoic, yet beautiful face, that he was a totally lost cause. Placing a quick kiss on Cas’s forehead before he stood up, Dean headed toward the shower. 

Bobby was in the kitchen making eggs and bacon, Dean realized he never ate the night before, and he was suddenly starving. Heaven had a way of changing your priorities based on what you wanted, last night Cas had been on the menu, but this morning it was bacon. Dean grabbed a few slices and was about to head toward the bathroom when Bobby stopped him.

“Hey, idjit, tell your angel to stop hiding your room, it’s creepy. Plus, I’d like to see him.”

Dean was frozen for a moment, bacon hanging from his mouth.

He swallowed, “Uh...yeah…okay.” 

He shuffled back to his room and cracked the door open, “Hey Cas, Bobby would like to see you.”

Before Cas could come out Dean practically ran to the bathroom.

“Bobby?” Cas said, ducking out of Dean’s room just in time to see the bathroom door shut. 

“Hey Cas,” Bobby smiled, “It’s real good to see you, have a seat here.”

Bobby gestured toward an empty chair by the table and Cas sat down rather reluctantly. He liked Bobby, sure, but he knew him only through the context of what he meant to Dean and that left him feeling a little unnerved. 

“So,” Bobby said looking at Cas as he whisked some eggs, “you and Dean, eh?”

Cas understood that Bobby would never use two words when one would do. So he knew that he was questioning what he and Dean were to one another. Cas could not answer this question easily — he could give a soliloquy on what Dean meant to him —- but he also knew that Dean was private, and so he did not wish to speak out of turn.

He decided on ignorance, “Dean and I, we are very good friends, and I am glad that we are able to spend time together again.”

“Hmm,” Bobby smiled, “You do realize that I got ears on my head angel? I know what kind of friends you two are.”

“I see,” Cas could not help but smirk.

Bobby put his hand on Cas’s shoulder, clapping it a few times before stepping back, “I am real glad you two idjits finally figured it out. If I had to watch Dean mope like a puppy one more day I was gonna have to kick him out. He was depressing the hell out of Karen.”

Cas’s ears perked up, “Karen, your wife? I should have realized… she isn’t here now?”

“Nah,” Bobby smiled, “she’s out at her sister’s. She died when Karen was a teenager and ever since you and your boy decided to sort out heaven, they have been spending a lot of time together. It makes her real happy. Thanks for that by the way.”

Cas just nodded, Jack had done the real work, but he had helped as much as he could.

Bobby’s eyes lit up when he spoke of his wife and her happiness, Cas felt that he could relate. There was nothing he would not do to bring Dean any semblance of joy, he had helped Jack to rebuild heaven with Dean’s happiness in mind. Castiel wondered if Dean could fathom that? He imagined that if he could, Dean would not feel deserving, because Dean never quite knew his worth. Cas would build entire universes to Dean’s liking if that was what he wanted; but Dean wanted this simple heaven, surrounded by the people he loved and in the form of the world he fought so hard to save. 

Bobby watched Cas as his eyes turned glassy and a little bit moonie and recognized the look for what it was. He had watched the angel pine over Dean for years, but never knew if Dean would get his head out of his ass long enough to see it. He felt a sudden real pang of sadness wash over him as he thought about Dean. Ever since he had joined him in heaven, he never considered what that meant, that Dean had died. Not only had he died, he had died right when he finally had a chance to really live. Bobby felt waves of grief, frustration, and anger pulse through him as he came to this realization. 

“How did he die again?” Bobby said to Cas, frozen in place, cast iron full of eggs still in his hand.

Cas winced, he hated to remember, but it was etched so clearly into his mind he could recall every atom, every molecule that made up the scene of Dean’s final moments on earth. Jack had used his strength to keep Castiel in place, not allowing him to intervene with Dean’s demise. 

“Dad,” Jack had said, his voice suddenly large and god-like, “we have made a place for him here, he will be happy in heaven. If we stop this now, we will be no better than Chuck, Dean’s life is in his own hands Castiel. That is free will.”

Cas had fallen to his knees, wings outstretched, eyes alight with grace that seemed to pour out of him with the effort he made against Jack's restraint. The moment he felt Dean’s soul enter heaven he let go, weeping at Jack’s feet. The righteous man had met such a feeble end. Jack had knelt before Cas, holding him tightly and repeating, over and over in his ear, “He is with me now, he is safe. You do not have to worry over him anymore.”

Jack, for all his power and all his goodness, did not understand. There was no getting Dean Winchester out of Castiel’s heart. He had watched the world form, he had been there since the very beginning of creation, but love was something that Dean had created for him, he had formed it within him: to Cas Dean was love. 

Castiel had left heaven for a while after that, but he kept his radio tuned to Dean’s prayers, and he waited. Waited to hear Dean’s voice, waited and hoped that he would call for him, that he would invite him in. Of course, he understood why Jack had worked to keep the angel’s from interfering with the heaven they had created. He knew that because there was a newness to it, because it was not just someone’s memories on repeat, that interference from angels would interrupt the souls at peace, but he hoped anyway. When it did come, the prayer, it came out just as his name ‘Cas’ but it was enough. 

Cas had come to him with no expectation, he only wanted to see Dean, but after only minutes then they were kissing, it happened so quickly in Cas’s mind that he could barely recall anything other than the feel of the hunter, the smell, his greens eyes, and his soul, so beautiful and so pure. Dean had been to hell, he had been Alistair’s play thing, but even that torture could not dampen the beauty of his soul. Castiel had placed his hand upon Dean and that soul had changed him instantly. He had branded Dean bodily, but Dean had branded him completely, and nothing else from that point mattered to him as much as the righteous man. 

Bobby cleared his throat, and Cas realized that he was still before him, waiting for an answer.

“He was killed clearing out a nest of vamps. He got pushed, there was some rebar. He was … impaled,” Castiel closed his eyes, trying to shut out the vision, “Jack would not let me interfere, there are new rules now. Heaven and hell do not interfere so I… I couldn’t save him as I wished to.”

Bobby set down the skillet, and grabbed a few plates from the cupboard. He was not sure why he had never thought of Dean’s death before, he supposed he had just been too happy to be with the kid to care, but now he had a sour taste in his mouth and his eyes were clouded with tears.

“What a dumbass way to go,” he said, finally. 

Cas found he could not speak, he needed to see Dean, to wrap his arms all the way around him, to breathe in his scent, to kiss him, and to know that his soul still lived. 

“I’ll be back,” he said, suddenly a little mad with need.

He walked to the bathroom and pushed the door open, Dean was wrapping a towel around himself, still dripping from the shower. Cas closed the door quickly and before Dean could react he was in his arms. Cas felt desperate and weak, but he did not care, for a moment he felt… human. 

“Woah,” Dean said, closing his arms around the angel, “What’s going on?”

Cas had absolutely no experience with emotional attachment of this kind. It felt humiliating and humbling to be so in need of comfort, but he had been almost in a frenzy when he entered the room, now that he was sated with the idea that Dean was there, that his soul was intact, he was unsure of how to act or where to look. He stepped back, his eyes dropping to the floor, searching for something to say.

“Cas,” Dean said, placing his hand on the angel’s face, “talk to me.”

“I don’t really understand,” Cas hesitated, meeting Dean’s eyes, “I was talking to Bobby, and I was thinking about when you died and how I couldn’t stop it. Dean, I wanted to save you, I… I guess I just needed to see you were real. I am sorry to barge in on you.”

Dean pulled Cas to his chest pressing a kiss against his hair, he understood. He knew what it meant to need to confirm that the people you loved were real and solid against your arms. 

“I’m here Cas,” he said, overwhelmed, “I love you.”

Cas tipped his head up and kissed Dean, he kissed him with less fever than he had before. He let his lips linger over Dean’s before closing them against his own. Now that he knew how Dean’s lips felt, how his body felt, how it felt to be held by him, Castiel was sure he could not live without it. 

A few minutes later, Bobby pretended not to notice when Cas and Dean came out of the bathroom together, their lips a little swollen and eyes a little misty. He remembered what it had been like to fall in love — real, true love — and he suddenly missed Karen something fierce. 

“You boys hungry?” Bobby smirked.

“Starved,” Dean said, sitting at the table.

“Yes,” Cas said, distracted by the way Dean’s t-shirt was clinging to his damp chest.

Dean winked at him but then his expression turned curious, “Wait? You eat here?”

“Heaven’s food, it’s different,” Cas did not want to explain that everything they experienced on this plane of existence was a facsimile of the real thing. That everything was transitory; you could see, touch, taste, feel, hear it all, but it was also ephemeral, things existed because they were required, but they could not be tied to any sort of reality. This was information that seemed unnecessary to share, though, so he smiled and took a piece of toast, slathering it with a good sized scoop of strawberry jam. 

Dean smiled stupidly and did the same, knowing that he was completely smitten. Bobby rolled his eyes at the two of them, but felt a satisfaction settle in. He knew Dean deserved to be loved the way the angel loved him, and it sent pride through him to see them smiling like idjits at one another. 

When they were almost done with breakfast, there was a brief rap on the door before it swung open unceremoniously. Dean went completely rigid in his seat, and Cas could sense the nervous energy that both he and Bobby began to emanate the moment that John and Mary Winchester entered Bobby’s kitchen.

“Good morning,” Mary said, smiling until her eyes locked onto Cas.

“Castiel?” She said, taking a step toward the angel. 

He stood and held his hand out to her, “Hello, Mary.”

She ignored his hand and hugged him, giving his shoulders a little squeeze as she stepped back, “It is really good to see you again.”

Her eyes flicked to Dean who was still frozen in place.

Mary turned to John, “John, this is Castiel, Cas, you’ve heard a lot about him.”

“So,” John strode toward Cas, “You’re the angel?”

“Yes,” Cas’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened his spine reflexively, “I am an angel.”

“Good to meet you,” John said, stretching out his hand.

Cas took it, curtly shaking it before he took a step back, “We have met briefly, but you would not remember.” 

John just nodded before smacking Bobby on the shoulder and sitting down at the seat beside him. Mary and Cas sat down also, but both of their eyes were on Dean who had not moved or spoken since they’d entered.

Mary broke the silence, “You good, Dean?”

Hearing his name Dean seemed to come out of his stupor, he cleared his throat, “YEAH,” it came out a little loud so he cleared his throat again, “yeah, good… I’m good… Hi mom.”

She squinted at him, and then looked at Castiel who was looking very carefully at his toast. Then she smiled a little, “Cas, I don’t know where you’ve been but I hope you are well. I hope you have been with Jack, I am so glad things turned out the way they did, he is a good boy.”

Cas smiled, he knew Mary cared deeply for Jack, despite the fact that his power had taken her life, “I have been with him, but I am afraid he is no longer a boy,” Cas looked a little wistful at this and he felt Dean squeeze his knee under the table, “he and Amara are keeping things balanced and I am grateful for the peace that brings.”

John huffed a little, taking a bite of bacon, “I am glad for all this,” he said, gesturing around him, “but I don’t have as many good things to say about the woman who tried to kill my son or the boy did kill my wife.” 

Dean shifted forward in his seat awkwardly, “Dad, you know it's more complicated than that. We were all under Chuck’s thumb, he never really let us… Well, it was just more complicated.” He shot a knowing look to Cas, whose eyes had narrowed further at John.

“Sure,” John said, his eyes matching Cas’s glare, “I just figure we should all interact with our own sort. Angels, demons, monsters, humans... It doesn't matter. We don’t mix.”

“John,” Mary protested, “I don’t think…”

“No,” Dean said, finally finding his voice, “Don’t mom.”

John’s mouth twitched up as he looked at Dean, it was not a smile Dean was used to seeing lately, it was that dry sarcastic one he had known all too well on earth, “What do you want to say son?”

“Cas had my back Dad, sure he made mistakes, but he had my back. He broke ranks with the angels, and he gave up his life on more than one occasion to save me, to save all of us. Cas is my sort, he is…” Dean faltered, his legs began to shake and he was suddenly twenty years old, looking at his father’s disappointed expression. 

They were all surprised when Cas stood up, pushing his chair from the table, “Please,” he said looking around the room but letting his eyes settle on Dean’s, “This is my fault, I’ll go.”

“Cas,” Dean’s voices shook.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Then he was gone, and the room was quiet.

“Sorry son,” John said, rather feebly. 

Dean sat down and took a steadying breath. They all felt a calm wash over them, all but Dean. Although they were still uneasy, it seemed more possible to look past their differences and just be together, enjoying breakfast. Dean took another breath, but he knew that calm was impossible for him. Cas was chaos, but Cas was also his relief.


	7. Whole Lotta Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas take a huge leap together, and it’s a very good time for both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw if your dad is a most-likely-homophobic-and-if-not-at-the-very-least-a-repressed-asshat then just go do gay shit... and that’s what they do.
> 
> Finally, the smut you’ve been waiting for. Things go from zero-sixty but I think they deserved it. 
> 
> **please leave comments if you have any, I would love to know what anyone thinks! I can take it, I swear! (I’m an emotional bottom)

Dean felt awful. He had whiplash. His angel boyfriend — boyfriend? partner? — had just left because his father was a bully, but there they were drinking coffee and chatting like some goddamned stepford family. He could not stop picturing the look on his father’s face: that all too familiar look of disappointment. Mary grabbed for Dean’s hand, but he pulled away. 

He was beginning to see now how Cas’s presence could affect their emotions, and how that was definitely an obstacle. He also knew that he would not give him up again, not for any reason. It was another cosmic joke in a string of cosmic jokes that was Dean’s existence. He did not want to face it, but he knew on some fucked up level his father was right, a celestial being and a human were not supposed to be together, but “supposed to” had sort of flown out the window for them years ago. 

“Dean?”

The voices around him sounded muffled like he was under water, until his own name snapped him out of it. 

“Yeah, uh sorry, what?” He said trying to focus.

John laughed, “You got cotton in your ears? I was wondering if you needed help up at your cabin today?” 

Dean felt his stomach drop, he did not want his father there. He wanted to be alone. No, he wanted to be with Castiel. Clarity was rare on earth, but in the afterlife it was easier to find answers and much easier to pick your battles. Dean knew what he wanted, and he knew he just needed to say it. 

“No, not today,” he said, standing abruptly, “Cas… That is, my angel boyfriend, Cas is helping today. I’ll see you guys later.” Without another word or a backwards glance, he was out the door.

He drove to the cabin’s worksite half dazed, Dean did not know that heavenly “coming out” was a thing, but apparently he had just done it. There was a small part of him that wished he had, had the courage to be himself on earth, but he could no longer live in that past life: full of regret and pain. When he got to the cabin he noticed the deck was finished, he looked around curiously wondering if maybe Cas was actually there helping and that is when he realized that windows had been installed, too. When he stopped to think about it, he had not wanted to do that work now that Cas was with him, he wanted to have his own place ready. Heaven supplies what you need, he thought smiling. 

When he opened the door, he was stunned. It was done, fully furnished, decorated and ready to move in. Everything was exactly what Dean wanted it to be, down to the last pillow on his oversized leather couch. He clapped his hands together and ran to the main bedroom, and there it was, a beautiful california king canopy bed. Dean jumped in it and crashed into the soft cotton sheets. Turning onto his back, he made the call. 

“Cas,” he said, trying for his most reverent tone, “I pray for you to come to me and check this out!”

He heard the sound of wings and there was Cas, standing at the edge of the bed looking at Dean with concern in his eyes. 

“What do you think?” Dean said, smiling like a big kid.

“About what?” Cas said, head tilting.

“Our… my… this bed,” Dean stumbled, a little nervously.

Cas looked at the bed and nodded, “It is very large, Dean.”

Dean snickered at the double entendre feeling almost giddy now that Cas was there. Then it clicked, Cas looked upset, because of course he was upset. Dean scooted off the bed and walked toward Cas, placing his hands on either side of the angel’s face. 

“I’m sorry about my father, Cas,” Dean meant it in more ways than one.

Cas placed his hands on top of Dean’s and sighed, “I told you this will be complicated, I am making things more difficult. Maybe this is a bad…”

Dean cut him off, kissing him squarely on the mouth. He lingered, letting their breath mingle as he slowly pulled away.

“Cas,” he said, still so close that Cas could see the little flakes of gold in his irises, “We are a very bad idea, yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to keep you. I finally, FINALLY, got you. So fuck all of the baggage and the bullshit, I am keeping you.”

He leaned back toward him and kissed his neck, he did not know how to soothe an insecure partner —let alone an angelic one— with anything other than making him feel wanted, and he wanted Cas. Now that he knew how it felt to be held by him, now that he knew that the way his body responded to his touch, now that he knew all he knew, there was nothing left but to love Cas the way he should be loved. Dean pulled at Cas’s loosely knotted tie, still kissing and nipping at his neck. Cas was breathing heavily in Dean’s ear and the warm breath made all the hairs on his body stand at attention. He tugged at the soft hair at the nape of Cas’s neck pulling his head back and licking his adam’s apple. The sound Cas made could only be described as filthy, and Dean smiled as he drew a line with his tongue up the angel’s throat. He stopped when he got to his lips, still holding Cas by the hair, just out of reach. 

“Cas,” Dean practically purred, “What do you think about this bed? What would you like to do in it?”

Cas raised his hand behind him and pulled Dean’s fingers free of his hair. He pushed it smoothly down his body until it reached the impressive bulge he was now displaying. 

“Everything,” Cas said, his eyes wide, “I want to do everything.”

Dean felt himself strain against his jeans, and he wondered how Cas learned to talk like that or how to look like that. It went straight through Dean to hear him speak in his husky tone about the ‘everything’ he wanted to do with him. Dean wanted it, too. The way he kissed Cas was a reply, it was open mouth and wet and hungry. They did not have to think about noise so they were both making desperate and needy gasping noises as they kissed peeling off their clothes one layer at a time. Dean refused to rush. Up to this point, he had only had a few chances to be with Cas, and they were fraught with so much tension and fear, but he was not afraid now. He, too, wanted everything. 

Dean was thrilled at every sound Cas made, he watched as the angel unbuttoned his shirt, never breaking eye contact until Dean lifted his own over his head. Once Cas was done unbuttoning, Dean pulled the shirt off his shoulders, and then bent down to kiss the curves and planes of Cas’s stomach, all the while digging his nails hard into his back. Then he kissed his hip bone, letting his tongue linger against the hollow there. Cas reacted by pulling at Dean’s hair, begging him to move up to his mouth. Dean obeyed and kissed him slowly and almost agonizingly while Cas pulled at Dean’s belt releasing it to the ground before unceremoniously pushing away his jeans and boxers with it. Dean reciprocated and finally they were naked, their bodies pressed so hard together that Dean almost felt pain in his ribs. He kept pulling Cas to him, grabbing his skin and pressing his hips against him. Cas responded by grabbing Dean’s hips and moving them backward toward the bed. Dean was frantic with lust, he could imagine all the things he could not only a few days before. He thought that they might be moving too fast, but he did not want to wait, and he knew he could not wait. 

So, before really thinking about what it meant, the words were out of his mouth, “Cas, fuck me.”

Cas froze, his body hovering over Dean's, his knee pressed between his legs. 

“Dean,” he hesitated, swallowing hard, “I think that would be skipping a few steps. We have only been intimate a few times, and I don’t want to rush you. Plus I assumed… I thought you would want to be the…”

“Top?” Dean asked, surprised he was the comfortable one.

“Yes,” Cas smirked.

If he were honest, Dean thought so, too. If and when his mind wondered, which it did sometimes without his consent, he justified wanting men by imagining himself in the dominant position. He knew that he wanted that with Cas, but right now he needed Cas to be the one to cross this particular line. He trusted Cas and he loved the way he looked on top of him, beautiful and strong. If there were stops along the way that they had yet to enjoy, he did not care. In this moment, he knew what he needed, he wanted to be cared for, loved. He wanted to be fucked.

“I want you to fuck me. I’m not afraid, and I’m too damn old for these hang ups or rules. I want everything Cas,” he said, once again surprising himself.

“You are technically dead Dean, you don’t age anymore,” Cas said, totally missing the point.

Dean reached down and took Cas in his hand slowly moving up and down with enough pressure to make the angel tremble, “Imagine this is us moving together. Imagine this is me. If you don’t want this we don’t have to… but if you do, then I am ready.”

With that Cas leaned forward and kissed Dean’s lips softly before giving him a serious look, “If you don’t like something, tell me.”

“You got it, angel,” Dean smiled.

Cas kissed him again, lingering a moment before moving his attention to Dean’s neck. He took his time licking and kissing Dean’s chest, muscled stomach, and hips thinking about all the times he had healed this man. Wounds had been inflicted in fights with monsters, demons, angles and even himself. He wished that he could kiss away all the pain that Dean had ever experienced and wash away the memories of the times it had been at his own hands. If he could not, though, he would love this man. He kissed lower and lower until he was eye level with Dean’s throbbing cock. Cas kissed it as well, and Dean let out a low breath at the friction. Although tempted, Cas did not linger, instead he began kissing Dean’s thighs massaging them as he went. Dean had to admit it felt incredible but he was not sure why Cas was spending so much time on the preamble, as he was already so hard it ached.

Of course Cas could sense that Dean was still anxious and said, “Just relax, there is no need to rush this, I want you to have so much pleasure.”

Dean could feel Cas’s warm breath on his thigh as he spoke and it sent shivers down his spine. He nodded and laid back against the pillows, focusing on the feel of Cas’s hands on his hips and legs and the little kisses he kept placing anywhere his lips could reach. Finally, Dean let go a little more, and Cas sensed that too. He moved his hands to slowly part Dean’s thighs, bending his knees as he did. He felt Dean tense slightly, but he relaxed again when Cas continued his massage on his thighs, focusing now on the inner leg. He kissed Dean’s cock again, licking it from tip and continuing until he reached Dean’s hole. Dean felt the most intense pleasure rock through him as Cas’s tongue circled him over and over varying the speed and tempo just enough to make Dean’s cock dribble on his stomach. After a few minutes of this, Dean was panting and moving needily against Cas. 

Finally, Cas lifted his head and took Dean in his mouth. Letting his tongue continue it’s good work, he circled it around Dean’s cock as he sucked, doing both with expert execution. The sudden pleasure was intense and Dean found himself desperately close to the edge after only a few minutes. Cas slowed his pace as he felt Dean thicken slightly, and finally let Dean fall from his mouth. The sound of it was utterly pornographic and Dean looked at Castiel, once again astonished at his beauty but also impressed by his skill. Cas reached into the nightstand and voila: lube. He applied it to his finger, pressing it gently against Dean’s hole and circling a few times before moving it inside. Cas was surprised that Dean did not seem uncomfortable, and he moved slowly in and out several times waiting for any sign of discomfort before adding a second finger. Once again, Dean did not wince but moaned as his body began to tremble under Cas’s control. 

Cas did not want to interrupt Dean’s pleasure but he was genuinely curious, “Dean, do you like this?”

“Y— yeah,” he said his voice low and gruff, so that Cas felt his own cock jerk in response.

“Have you done this to yourself? With your fingers?” Cas asked his voice low to match Deans.

Dean just nodded, his body jerking in response to the spot that Cas had clearly just found. 

“Oh,” Cas hummed, “there it is. Good Dean. I’ve got you.”

Dean was beginning to sweat as Cas added a third finger stretching as he went and hitting that spot over and over. Dean knew he was saying things but it was like someone else had taken over his voice. It was like possession. Only instead of scary and fucked up, it was just so good. 

Dean opened his eyes when Cas removed his fingers, and lined himself up to him. They locked eyes as he entered him, and Dean felt like he was shattering. 

“Castiel,” he said, because he knew Cas loved hearing his full name, but also because he had to say it. He needed something to anchor him to this moment, which was bigger and more real than anything good he had ever felt before.

Cas’s head fell backward as he let out a cry of pleasure. Dean felt so good that he was not sure how long he could last. He grabbed the hunter’s cock and began to move him with the same steady rhythm. Dean had grabbed onto Cas’s arms and was digging into his skin as he moaned, deep and guttural. 

Finally, Cas’s slow and careful pace had Dean going crazy and he pressed back against the angel, moving his hips in time to speed Cas along. As he did this Cas once again found the right spot, which had him moving even faster and more desperately against him. Cas began to shake and he knew that Dean’s movements were sending him over the edge. He began to move his hand faster as he hit just the right angle and Dean cried out suddenly, spilling onto his stomach and Cas’s hand. Cas watched the man he loved racked with pleasure and he was done for, filling Dean as he fell forward saying his name over and over.

Dean kissed the angel’s hair as he came apart with the knowledge that he loved Cas more than he had a moment ago, when he thought he had never loved anything so much. Cas, too, was overwhelmed. He knew that what they had just experienced was something precious and holy, and his eyes shone bright blue with grace. 

“Dean,” Cas said looking up at him, “you had never done that before?”

Dean smiled, “No, that was a new one, I’ve had my fair share of fun, but that was new.”

“And..” Cas hesitated, “you are happy?”

“So fucking annoyingly happy,” he replied smiling and yawning.

“Dean,” Cas said again, the angelic light in his eyes dimming a bit, “I am glad we experienced that for the first time together. Thank you.”

“Me too,” Dean said, his love once again growing a little bit more.


End file.
